What if the Wolfsmen were right after all? What if Tsyrke and Mage did have a trap in store for the Shae? Would meeting on the slopes of the fortress be practical? Would the Shae even come if they felt such a strong warding ringing the city? What should he do?
Exeres sighed and plodded on, walking at an even brisker pace. There was little time to decide. If they did not try to seek a peace, then Ballinaire and the rest of his army would arrive from the north. And he had a Sorian with him too. Exeres expected the two would clash when they met outside the keep. And what, in Achrolese’s name, would happen when they did? Or perhaps that was Thealos’ plan. To bring them both together and use some Silvan magic he claimed would destroy them both.
The darkness thickened as he walked. He climbed the road leading up to the base of the fortress walls. The heaviness of the warding weighed him down, making each step a little more difficult than the one before it. He carried stones of doubt and uncertainty as well. What was he doing! A lowly Zerite from the Isherwood—come down to the Shoreland to challenge powers that had drowned empires before even the Shae had been born. What could he do?
What about Mage? Would the Sorian try and put a hold on him again? Another tether of control—one that would force him to tell them where Ticastasy would be? He thought he stood a better chance this time of breaking free of it. Part of him had to believe that because he had done it once, it would be more slippery for them to try and grasp him again. He hoped that was so.
The walls of Landmoor loomed above him, and the very skies seethed with undulations as if some black wind blew over the watchtowers. The heaviness wore on him even more. Despair. He licked his lips, putting each step in front of the other.
He reached the porter door to the side of the main gate. The heavy portcullis and strong inner doors shut away the innards of the city. What would it be like trying to rush the hill with an army? Especially a Shae army amidst such feelings of darkness?
He pounded on the porter door and a small slit opened.
“Who are you?”
“I am Exeres from the Isherwood, a Zerite. I am here to see Commander Phollen. The password is Ishtol.”
A bar slipped and thudded, followed by the groan of a crossbar. The porter door opened, revealing several Bandit soldiers heavily armored.
“Quickly! Get inside!”
Exeres ducked within the narrow archway and the soldiers slammed the door, bolting and locking it. Barrels of nails were stacked to each side of it—debris ready to be used to barricade it. He chafed his hands, feeling the congestions of the darkness throbbing in the air.
“I need to see Commander…”
“I’m here, boy.”
Tsyrke stepped from within the shadows of the barracks door, his frame towering. His eyes were smudged with little bruises, bloodshot and bleary. A hauberk rattled beneath the black and gold trim armor, offset by his tattered red cape. Pure anger seethed from his expression as he stared at Exeres.
“You didn’t bring her.”
Exeres swallowed. “No, the Shae want to talk first. They want…”
Tsyrke jerked his arm in the air, slicing his hand down like a knife. “You don’t understand anything, Priest! It’s all a lie. All a ruse! There’s no truce with the Shae! You were told to bring the girl to me.” His eyes went wild with rage. He was going to draw his huge sword. He was going to cut Exeres in half with it…
“Ban you, stupid Priest! You let her go. You let her go!” He clenched his fists and turned away. Whirling, he snarled at one of the soldiers. “I want him in the dungeons. In your hunger, remember this, Priest. Remember the consequences for failing me. Take him out of my sight!”
*
The fog came in from the sea like a solid wall. Thealos crouched by a cedar, deep in its shadows, and watched it come. No fires had been lit, but the heat of the day still lingered into the darkness and it did not really matter. He sensed the presence of the Crimson Wolfsmen in the surrounding area, preparing to leave. They were as quiet as ashes, but their presence swirled through the air, mingling with his Shae senses. They could sense him just as easily.
A little stab of guilt poked at him for deceiving Exeres. But he could live with that. The priest had been under the thrall of two Sorian. He had insisted that both let him go. But what more did Thealos have than his word alone? No, trust did not come easy now. Not when he had seen the results of a Sorian’s games. His family was dead because of it.
No, the difficult part would be deceiving Stasy too.
If it came to that.